


Of Dreams, Reality, and Sweet Lies

by Wthrdhndsbrknsl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wthrdhndsbrknsl/pseuds/Wthrdhndsbrknsl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A truth that's told with bad intent<br/>Beats all the lies you can invent.”<br/>― William Blake, Auguries of Innocence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0-Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than the other girls."  
> -J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

     The more time I spend looking into the glass the less of my own face I see. 

Not just physically, as was expected, but to my very core. I stood taller then I had expected to grow, and I seemed to gain and lose weight in all of the places I should have. My face thinned out, but was now framed by black locks. The consistent dyeing of it seemed to have sucked all of the Tully right from me. My stature was always rigid, that of an animal trapped in a cage searching hopelessly for a way out. 

I had been right in my musing about the Eeyrie and how it would be a white cold prison. Colder then I ever remember being in Winterfell, and the perpetual snow stopped bringing me joy long ago. It all was a bit ironic if I allowed myself to ponder it too long, or maybe that was just the bitterness crawling its way into my thoughts.

As promised I created a mask, a mask for a woman I could very much level with. A hardened mask, for a hardened woman, who lived a hard life. Alayna Stone was only different in childhood, every second of my life since leaving home had been harder then the last. But Sansa demanded respect from those not under the employment of the Lannisters. A Stone is just a bastard, base born, I'm practically a Snow. Well I was, I guess now its Alayna Hardyng, Lady of the Eeryie. 

I had been trying for many moons to give the people of this land the benefit of the doubt, but alas even the truly kind seeming ones had been plotting selfishly my entire stay. Of course none forget their manners, they all sing their songs. Like good little birds. The joke made so much sense now, the birds of the castle tweeting their practiced pleasantries, and the mocking bird, laughing it up at the predictable nature they've assumed. 

Harold Hardyng was the worst perpetrator of the bird and songs crime. All sugar and lemon cakes until our agonizing moments of privacy. Then I would probably be much better off stealing myself to the library or jumping through the moon door. My perception of Harry is one of a storm dwelling, stirring, waiting. His secrets were well known gossip and it was hard to pretend to not know. Children at home, with a woman I had yet to find. A mystery I found the darkest parts of my soul trying to learn for a reason that has me staring at myself wondering how I could ever wish harm on a young mother, and her mistake she made out of  love. 

But to learn anything beyond this white prison would mean speaking to Petyr Bealish. Which was a task I would never have the grace of doing seeing as how I had been left alone, with my fresh marriage, while he carted dear sweet Robyn around the damn Vale taking, and thank the gods, almost all of the clucking hens with him.

So to recap, he left me literally the morning after the charade of a wedding he forced me into. All promises and knights, queens of love and beauty, and most importantly gallons of wine. And the ending where I stumbled under the weight of my drunken husband who stole the only prize  I had managed to save through all of the bad in this life. 

I have grown, already, to resent my wifely duties. Being sweated on a snored at has been a huge factor in my bitterness. It pains me to feel already a relation to the awful things Cercei had said to me about men and sex. And all of it was right, except the part where I ever felt like he even cared I was there. Knowing your being touched out of duty, to produce a legitimate heir, to keep up appearances. Well its enough to make you want to scream. Being sold is being sold, whether I wanted it as a child or not, the seven can have their knights and songs. 

O yes, looking in the glass before would have shown me glimpses of Sansa Stark, but now all I see is Stone. 


	2. 1-Come With Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A smile is the best way to deal with difficult situations. Even if its a fake one. Used properly, you can fool anyone with them" - Sai

I wake up pretty early most days, it has become a sort of peaceful habit which allows me alone time. Its almost serene when the only noise is the wind blowing through the towers. The only life the pretty little birds floating through the sky.

As of late, loneliness was easy to find, with most of the castle gone I had only my husband and a few servants to deal with. Even Maester Colemon had left, although for that I was grateful. Harrold was on a hunt, leaving me blissfully alone, and even better version of the comfort I found myself seeking in the dusk.

Unfortunately the silence held truths unfaced, the demons we all pretend arn't there, chasing us in our nightmares. Lord Bealish told me once that a lie only becomes a lie once spoken, that the truth is how you perceive it.

A soft knock came at the door, and I felt my entire body lock up from my seat at the window.

"Alayne, I figure you were still asleep, your maids havn't even been awoken yet." Lord Bealish's smooth voice immediately relaxed me and a small smile forced its way unto my lips.

"Please come in lord father, you must be weary from your travels" Practiced levels, practiced names, but before I turned I closed the curtain. The door shut quietly behind him, and I allowed myself a glance. He looked worn, but as put together as ever. Most importantly I noted he wore a smile that for once seemed to reach his eyes. He missed me.

"Petyr" I said warmly, giving him a genuine hug. The first contact I had wanted in months. He immediately rested his head down into mine holding me tightly in place.

"How have you fared, my little bird?" He purred before letting me go. I gave myself enough time to think before sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Its been quiet and I've had lots to think about and adjust to, how have you been?"

"And our dear heir?" He truly was a master deflector, and here I was thinking I could avoid too much of the truth.

"He has his distractions, I've tried to hold his interest, but" I hesitated, How far would I take my honesty? Was it better to lie? He just looked at me patiently, waiting for the answer I didn't even know how to give. " I'm unsure of what to do" Naivety and an uncomfortable topic. 

"in what regards" Dammit!

This time I felt much less brave, I had hoped the topic would be befitting of him to wish to speak of and it would end the questions. I tried, and failed, at keeping the blush from creeping onto my face. He just smiled brilliantly, "are you afraid of an under performance my sweetling?" I just glared. "Oh, you just have the lay there, its not as if he expects much else."

I finally just started giggling, the whole thing feeling kind of absurd. His crystal chime of a laugh joined me as well. So much for serious conversations.

"I had to go take care of business in Gulltown, see that the shipments are safe from the winter. Robyn and the rest of the castle should be here within a day or two." A small victory indeed, I noted that he seemed a bit more open then before, and he answered my question before I had to ask it again. 

"Good, it has been very lonely the last few days" 

"I'm sure it has if your this embarrassed about your marriage bed."

"it's just, I've allowed my mind to wander a lot in the last few weeks, I think I'm simply thinking too much for my own good" 

He looked calculating a present, I cursed myself for being so daft as to assume my half answers would suffice, as if I could distract Little Finger from himself.  "well a bit of good news then? Your claim to the Vale is legitimate, I did some digging around and once exiled you lose right to your titles, land, and marriage." 

After that a comfortable silence fell between us. I pulled my legs off the cold stone floor and leaned into my head board, patiently allowing him to remain in control of the conversation and situation at hand. 

"Ser Hardyng will come around. You're very beautiful, he is probably intimated by your presence in his bed. You have to give it time, and become a bit more comfortable around him."

"Does it ever stop hurting" I could punch myself for being so stupid. Why the fuck would I say that? 

"Yes" he didnt even look at me when he answered, probably thinking about how foolish I am. Being to brash and open. "I'm going to get some rest, I'll see you at dinner." He left still without glancing back, and for some reason that hurt most of all. I pulled my knees to my chest and allowed my mind to drift off again.

\---

Days pass slowly when I steal myself away to hide in the maidens tower. Harold's chambers,  _our_ chambers, felt uncomfortable and strangling in my waking life. And here I can allow my masks to fall, and take a much needed break from the stress of constant acting. I had meant to spend today reading, but found myself having trouble focusing. 

I often though of Lord Bealish, most days trying to untie knots and find the ends to schemes I knew I only had pieces of. Other days I cursed his existence, sick of being trapped. Furious he could use me like one of his stupid pawns in his game, days like that I referred to him only as Little Finger. The differences in the two personas finally had become quite clear.

Aside from all of those very true things, I've always known him to have some kind of deeper caring for me then he seems to grant to anyone else around him. Its hard to tell what that is however. He must see me as the Tully woman grown I've become. But he seems more to feel obligated to protect me as one would there kin. I'm not sure which makes me more uncomfortable anymore. But I can tell he desires to do right by me.  

Most of the time, wether my thoughts drifted to his kindness or to his coldness, I still hated that they landed at his feet.

\---

 Dressing for diner had become part of my routine of getting back into character. I believe that if I just think about being a lady enough, everything my septa taught me should shine through. And it does.

As I approached to hall to dine, I took practiced, straight back steps. I stood taller then I needed to, and set my face to a quaint, light hearted smile. The first face I notice is my husbands. He looks excited, eyes shining a bright as the blue morning sky. He looks beautiful, but its hard to see him this way when we are alone. He notices me staring and the light dies.

"My lovely wife. I have been looking for you all day." Doubt it. 

"I was reading in one of the towers, I'm very sorry I had no idea you'd be home so soon." I smiled dutifully, approached my place next to him. Brushed the sandy hair away from his face and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad to see you made it home in one piece, our room has been very cold without you." Lies.

Diner was mostly filled with talk of food, supplies and money. I noticed Lord Bealish seemed eerily quiet tonight, only chirping in with some stats from around the vale.  The amount of people at the table seemed to have tripled since my diner the night before. A most of the guards I recognized from my time I had spent here, many of them seemed very kind to me. But I knew that they are not my men, they are Harry's. By the end of the meal and talk, I excused myself to my chambers.

Dressing for bed was still strange in comparison to before. Now when I dressed I did so by taking off more then I would be leaving on.  I shivered before climbing into the bed, grateful for the furs to keep me warm. I listened for him to come in from diner, patiently.

He stumbled when he walked through the threshold, stumbled while trying to undress. I decided to sit up and help, crawling across the bed to wear he was seated on the edge. I helped him with the boots, then went to help with the ties on his pants. He grabbed my hand though before I could be of much use.

"My apologies, my lord, I have offended you."  he simply grunted and let my hand fall back onto his lap. I felt him twitch under the weight of it, while I methodically undid them. He finished the rest of his undressing just fine still avoiding my gaze. I sort of hoped he would continue to avoid me and save me the trouble of pleasing him. But all thoughts of hope always come too soon.

He gently pushed me down to be laying. I rolled to face him, but he just simply pushed me onto my side. He did start slower this time, rubbing little circles on my thighs and stomach while pulling up my small clothes. My heart hammered in my chest, unable to see him as he forced my back to him. But he was different this time, almost careful as he bit little kisses down the side of my neck and shoulders. The pace was causing me to feel something, in my stomach and legs, a sort of nervousness I had wished to hide. Or maybe dread. 

He, unexpectedly, pushed a finger inside of me. I gasped in surprise expecting a wicked pain to spread through me. It didn't as he moved it around, it actually felt almost ok. As he pulled it out, he traced over a sensitive spot just long enough to make me want to squirm uncomfortably. Then I felt the normal pressure and pain of him entering me. This time as he moved and snaked his arms to hold me closer, again I felt something different then normal, a sort of pressure build up I hadn't expected. His nails were digging slightly into my breasts, so to ease the pain I pushed myself closer to his chest. But he only grabbed tighter, and even tighter still before plainly saying Myria before spilling his sticky seed into me. And with that a familiar sense if emptiness filled me. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wont always be able to update this often. But the intro chapter was soo short, and I'm trying to stay one pre-write ahead of myself.


	3. 2-Frontline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why do beautiful songs make you sad?'  
> 'Because they aren't true.'  
> 'Never?'  
> 'Nothing is beautiful and true."  
> \- Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Upon the arrival of Robyn back atop the mountain. the entire castle seemed to erupt into motion. Life was hectic for a few days, and they passed quickly enough. 

First things first, there was gossip to catch up on. Myranda Royce was sure to fill me in on the inner workings of our noble men, and what they did whilst away from home. As long as I played her little game back, I was sure to learn all the details. And although there was a time when gossip had been a great bit of fun, now it simply passed the time for me, while waiting for the tiny pieces of information regarding my family, friends, and land. All of which never seemed to be mentioned unless it was in a bitter reminder that I will never have them again. 

"Tell me, how is seeing our handsome Harry in the bedroom?" Her excitement to my answer was palpable, but I knew I shouldn't disappoint.

"Great, not that I have much to compare it to" She snorted with laughter.

"O, Alayne. It can't be all bad"

"Its getting better" now I laughed too. All in all, it was funny. Id assume plenty of maids, in arranged marriages, don't care for their husbands at the beginning. 

It was nice to just laugh for a bit. To feel so human when I had spent most of this time feeling like a leper. Of course I was worried she would gossip all my gossip around, but it was no secret I had never been to bed. "But honestly Alayne, you two are the most beautiful match. The entire Vale has spoken of nothing else" If only she understood the charade of a marriage we have endured. 

"How old is his bastard?" I clapped my hand over my mouth immediately after I asked the question. 

"Heard about that huh?" In truth I had been hearing it for awhile now. Mostly from Myranda herself when she was unaware I was perched in the halls whilst she spoke. "He, if rumor is true, is only about 1 or 2. But the woman is ready to pop out the second son." I nodded curtly in response before deciding I needed to distract her. 

"You must share with me some advice for keeping him interested in me." I recovered quickly to a bawdy topic she looked positively gleeful to explain. 

Knowing the age of his son explained a lot. Like why he still wanted her, and his distance from me. I can't fathom leaving such a young child behind, before they even know your their father. Again my heart ached for Jon, how cruel I always was to this boy with no mother. And could i raise a child who wasn't my own if Harold brought his choices home, would I end up like my mother, secretly hating an innocent child all because of his fathers' mistakes.

Calm as water, Cold as stone.

\---

"Your lessons today will be in maintaining an inner calm, regardless of your surroundings." Petyr Bealish paced like a cat in front of his large oak desk. The chair I sat in was soft leather, with a high back, perched behind the massive thing. I took note how organized it always was, not a single page out of place. 

"And how will we be doing that?"

"simple enough" He sat in a much smaller chair across from me " I will tell you things, things I believe should spark an emotion from you. Do your best to fool me into thinking what you're saying is true in response"

"yes my Lord"  

"Your queen has been losing her grip on reality, the kingdoms weep for her, wouldn't you say" The boyish grin on his face was almost enough to make me laugh allowed. Courtesy is a woman's shield. 

"May the 7 bless her with the guidance and wisdom she requires" I watch him closely, as he puts his hands on the desk in the open and adjusts himself to sit more leisurely. 

"A comfortable man, is a trustworthy one. Always keep your hands somewhere they can be seen and try to resist clenching your fists like you do"

"Never let them see your nerves." I repeat previous lessons back to him, in hopes of gaining some praise.

He smiles. "your husband has been seen visiting his son"

I take a short breath before attempting to speak. What would I need the illusion to be for the people? "I gave him my leave to do so" the lie unfolds off from my tongue slithering in between us. Lord Bealish looked taken aback.

"why?"

"A man should take care of his responsibilities. How can his people think he will be a good father to the Vale if he can't be a good father to his own flesh and blood, who will follow a man like that?"

He stared at me for a long time then. I felt myself squirming under his grey eyes gaze. Of course I didn't know that he had so quickly betrayed me.  had he even given me time to clean the blood from our marriage bed before he ran back to his former life. Was I ever going to be given a chance at all or was it truly as Cerscei said, and my only purpose was to give legitimate children as well as his base-born ones. 

"Alayne. Very good, but remember to watch your hands" I looked down to see them clenched a top the desk. I sigh heavily in response. 

"My lord, may I take my leave?" 

"I am sorry that this is what I've brought you to, if only I had been granted my wish in King's Landing" he seemed to not hear my request. I watched a she stared into his lap, watched this confident man look sullen and defeated. 

"And what wish would that be?" Curiosity got the better of me. 

I must have snapped him out of it, because he shot hi head up at me. "it doesn't matter now, I had offered to take you in place of the imp. I felt I owed it to Cat. To you and your family whom have suffered so much"

The bitterness turned to acid in my throat. Someone, somewhere owed her a lot more then bedding he daughter. "You have already done so much, do not diminish it with what ifs" Like what if I had listened to my mother. What if I had married a Tyrell. What if Robb had kept his word and won. Never did the thought of what if I was married to Littlefinger ever cross my mind. "You saved me, you gave me the Vale, you defended me when your own wife tried to kill me, even if I still hide who I am, I believe one day you will tell me when we are safe for me to claim back my name."

"you have learned a great deal from me. I promise one day you will be happy" He paused again and looked me directly in the eyes."how about a kiss goodnight before you leave?"

I stood slowly being careful to keep my eyes affixed to the ground. By the time i made it around the desk, I could have sworn that my stomach felt light and empty. He had a small smile on his face, but the saddest eyes I had ever seen. I leaned down to brush my lips on his bristly cheek, but he turned his face and caught my mouth with his own. 

This was nothing like all that time ago in the snow. I wasn't trembling with fear at being taken advantage of. Instead I felt strong, and as he push his kiss into me I pushed back. It wasn't until the warmth spread over me that I jumped away. "Goodnight" I stammered back the blush betraying my fake calm. I left quickly before he could say anything else, eyes back to the ground in front of me. The moment the heavy door closed behind me, I took my first full rattled breath of fresh air.  

\---

I managed to get into the kitchens to steal myself a pitcher of arbor gold. It would have been simpler to just ask for it, but I wanted to be left alone. Plus getting into the kitchens once night fell on the castle was easy, no one had need to be in there. I found myself a place in tower looking over the rocks of the mountains below. The wine keeping me warm from the crisp winter air. 

Suddenly I remember the first time Lord Bealish saved my life. When half of the hall of court tried to have me thrown from the city. Right after my father had been taken in irons. "Give her a chance to prove loyalty" the words echoed. I hadn't seen it like that originally. Seven hells I hadn't even remember he was there. 

Looking back at my foolish love, my storybook dreams. Joffrey wasn't a prince, he was an inbreed bastard. All of the wine in Westeros and beyond couldn't clean the grim of him of from me. I thought of Ser Dontes, was kindness to me always bought and paid for?

I took another deep gulp of wine directly from the pitcher. I was such a terrible little shit, I deserve less then even an old coin counter in my bed. I deserved someone like Harry. 

"Do you deny your fathers crimes?" I am a coward, as if any of my pitiful attempts at resisting Joffrey's rule ever got noticed. I should have shoved him into the pit by my fathers head.

I'm no wolf, I'm not even a fish. I'm a full fledged coward. 

And yet I'm alive, and in no small part that's because of handsome man. Whom I know has done anything he thought he should for me. 

Or was it for some promise of a title i don't even have. I'm queen of the ashes of Winterfell. And he clearly wants to one day be my king. But is that for my mother as well, or so he can win that duel he lost all those years ago. 

Family, Loyalty, Honor. Tully words, but not a single trait I still had. My family was gone, my loyalties where clearly for the lord of ashes. And any honor I had was lost when I watched my father die. 

I tilted my head back and finished my wine. I felt myself drifting into a weak rest. My ghosts haunting me with what ifs as their weapons. Stabbing at my very soul. I dreamed of my past, my present. And then I dreamed of being a bird, singing my mocking song to a beautiful young woman. And as she held her hand out from inside the room, I didn't fly I simply fell into the rocks below.

\--- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Fun fact: I have most of up to chapter five done, so really the problem is typing it into the computer and believing its good enough to share. No worries I'm getting more confident in my plan for this.


	4. 3- Mr. Brightside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You must remember, my dear lady, the most important rule to any successful illusion: first, the people must want to believe in it.” – Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

The birds chirped happily in the morning dew. I awoke with a head ache ringing in my ears, last nights’ bitter taste still stinging the back of my throat. Like unspent bile, clawing and fighting for a freedom of any kind.

I felt useless, like a waste of seed that couldn’t protect her own life. Someone who has been so groomed for constraints that my own fear has kept me a prisoner, terrified to claim any birthright. Wearing a mask that was perfectly crafted for me, how could I ever hope to shed it?

I walked back to my marriage room slowly, listening to the chirping musically in my ears. O how I have grown to hate music, between Lysa’s awful singer and my last song to Sandor Clegane, no beauty had been left in the melodic sounds of even nature.

Yet my mind seems to be bent on forcing me to rewatch my father being walked to the execution block. The sacrifice he made to protect me even in his last moments. The lie he forced from his lips to save us. I can still feel the scream at the base of my tongue.

For not the first time, I just want to be alone. I’ve taken no comfort in others, not even the distractions Lord Bealish offers from his lessons. People have wronged me at every turn, lied to me at every opportunity. I wish I could fly away, or even just fall.

As I approached my chambers, my tears became too salty to force down.  I attempted weak shaky breaths to relax me, fearful of any questions, praying to every god that my lord husband would be out. As I reached to push open the heavy door I realized my fruitless efforts.

“And just where have you been _my lady_ ” the last part came out as a sneer once I was face to face with Harold.

“I feel asleep in the maiden’s tower reading”

“Then why, pray tell, do you look as if you have been weeping? Do you think I am blind and dumb?” It felt like a trap, yet my mind reminded me that I thought exactly those things. “Are you feeling guilty for something, afraid to see me?” he stood close enough that I could smell the wine on his breath. As my silence stretched on the birds mocked him.  “ANSWER ME!”

“Are you? Feeling guilty that is. I would think that in our situation I have nothing to feel guilty about.” I knew even as I spit my responses that keeping quite was a much better plan. Fire stretched across his face, his eyes dark with rage.  He reached behind me and slammed the door shut.

“I will be Lord of the entire Vale, and I will do whatever pleases me. You are just lucky to have lost your bastard name and should be groveling at my feet.”

“Not with me” Defiance never yielded good results. I think I heard the slap before I ever felt the sting stretch across my face. He hit like a knight. My eyes weld up quickly with unshed tears.

“I will not be made a fool of by some fingers rat. You are here to settle a debt and keep my bed warm. Which you have robbed me of by sneaking off like some common whore. “

I choked back a sob. “Will I ever be anything more?” The question hung in the air like some form of madness I didn’t realize I had held onto. Did some small part of me even want more?

“If I’ve had any luck, the mother of my proper children.”

I attempted to move past him, to shield my face from his gaze. MY heart pounded so hard I was sure I would throw it up at any moment. His arm shot out behind me and gripped painfully at my shoulders stopping me from getting any more space between us. I felt his hot acrid breath on my neck, “Now be a good little girl and lay down on the bed. And do us both a favor a quit pretending you hate it.”

\---

Even after a couple of days my face looked no less damaged. My eye and cheek both shined with bruising, and my shoulder had small finger shaped marks. I was afraid to see the rest.

I easily lied to the measter and to the little lord. I told them my embarrassing story of drinking a bit too much and falling into a jut of stone in one of the towers. Alas milk of the poppy became a small hidden staple to allow me to get adequate rest.

I did however attempt to spend some time with Robyn. His little smiles for me had always managed to cheer me up, as long as I looked past the little fits.

“Alayne. Tell me a story” he pleased from under his covers on his bed. I took a mental note of the sunken in eyes and lack luster in his hair. Little Robyn looked much sicker then I remember.

“What kind of story?”

“One I’ve never heard before”

It took me a minute to think of something I haven’t used yet, a short morality story my septa told me came to mind.

“How about The Fox and the Crow?”

“A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on a branch of a tree.

     "That's for me, as I am a Fox," said Master Reynard, and he walked up to the foot of the tree.

     "Good day, Mistress Crow," he cried. "How well you are looking today: how glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds."

     The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up by Master Fox.

     "That will do," said he. "That was all I wanted. In exchange for your cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future: "Do not trust flatterers."”

\---

Aside from my secret visits with my cousin, most of my time in the next week was spent alone. And luckily enough, without Harold. He said he needed to clear his head, and would be gone for some time, and ordered me to remain hidden and “ill”. Appearances, appearances, appearances, etcetera. With most of my face healed, save a small shiner, I decided to pay Lord Bealish a visit for a much needed distraction.

In a daze I wandered slowly to his sept, hoping to catch him there, although it was already much later then appropriate for visits. At the top of the steps I heard footsteps and a door opening. Quickly I decided to hide myself in the alcove of the window and held my breath.

“My lady, I thank you dearly for the visit.” Littlefinger’s voice started.

“No, no Lord Protector, Thank you” Myranda sounded almost minxy “are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“I have much to attend to, it would be best if you take your leave, besides I don’t need rumors flying about”

“Goodnight then” her giggling voice made me feel a wave a nausea wash over me. That and a flash of unexplained anger. I heard her footsteps coming towards my hidden form and with a shaky breath decided to step out to great her. “Alayne! Dear you scared me half to death. What are you doing?”

“I… I wanted to speak with my father about something, but it can just wait till the morning. Would you accompany me to my chambers? I still am not feeling well.”

She smiled so sweetly before taking the top of my arm in her hand, and begun walking back the way I had just come. “I was sorry to hear of your illness, fevers are terrible things” her small talk seemed to keep me on edge; my muscles bound tight waiting for an attack. “you know, most women become quite ill when they are with child.”

“As have I, one can only hope”

“Well here we are dear, I’m off to catch some sleep” she seemed to almost skip down the hall. My stomach lurched again watching her well-shaped form in the distance.

I swallowed by unexplainable turmoil and decided it must just be nerves from all the stress. Firstly I drank a small serving of milk of the poppy to relax myself; the familiar feeling of unwinding of my tightly corded muscles sent some sweet relief to mind. Choosing to ignore the twinge of jealousy and Myranda’s constantly happy state.

I made my way over to my wash tub and pulled a stone from beneath it. Hidden under was an assortment of seal containers, I grabbed the one closest to my hand. It took me a second to uncork the bottle, but at last the horrid smell reached my nostrils. Moon tea had its own unique viscous consistency that made it hard to pour, swallow, and clean. But with a deep breath I chocked down the contents.

Lightly as a cat I made my way over the window, drawing the heavy curtains open. I looked outside to check if there was much life still bustling through the castle. Once it was clear I was alone, I threw the container and watched it smash on the ground below with a strange sort of inability to tear my eyes from the wreckage.

As my eyes began to feel heavy, I slowly undressed from my gown. Again I thought of the scene on the stairs, my stomach knotting in response.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story in the second portion is directly take from: http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/FoxCrow.shtml


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